


Happily Ever After

by blutopaz15



Series: S3 Fics [7]
Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Cuddles, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Pre-Final battle, Season 3, So much flirting, Storm Spire, Two Shot, kind of hurt/comforty maybe too?, rayllum valentine’s week, this got a lot more intense than i intended oops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:47:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blutopaz15/pseuds/blutopaz15
Summary: Rayla and Callum talk about what "happily ever after" means to them, before and after the final battle.Prompt #7 (Happily Ever After) for #rayllumvalentines on Tumblr!
Relationships: Callum/Rayla (The Dragon Prince), Rayllum - Relationship
Series: S3 Fics [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2018519
Comments: 32
Kudos: 63





	1. before

**Author's Note:**

> The last prompt for [Rayllum Valentine's Week](https://raayllum.tumblr.com/post/639588092987195392/hey-everyone-i-thought-with-valentines-day) on Tumblr is **Happily Ever After**!
> 
> Oh man...so basically I was just going to write the post-battle happily ever after scene alluded to in the summary for this prompt...but then I got really carried away with the pre-battle set up and long story short...this is now a two-shot. Here's the first chapter, and second chapter is my next priority. This also turned out a lot angstier than I intended. They're still cute though! <3
> 
> Thanks so much for reading and I appreciate any kudos/comments you are inclined to leave for me!

Goosebumps prickled along Rayla’s arm, but she’d long ago decided that the comfort of Callum’s warm hand in hers was _absolutely_ worth the persistent chill of the cold, stone ground against her skin.

When she’d reached above her head after everyone had settled in for the night, she’d found that he’d been reaching out for her too, and their hands hadn’t left each other’s since. At first, they’d kept their fingers tightly locked together, urgent and tense, but after a little while, their grasps had slackened into lazy, but still unyielding, contact.

Soon after, he'd started silently tracing different patterns against her palm while she stared up at the ceiling of the Storm Spire, her head buzzing about the army marching towards them.

Callum started with letters, and once he reached the end of the human alphabet, he strung them together into words. He spelled her name first, which pulled her attention back to him and away from a scene running through her head in which Ezran didn’t make his way back to them in time. 

She focused on Callum’s touch through her name, then his, then Zym’s, before he started spelling out Ezran’s name and her thoughts drifted back to the scenario he’d distracted her from in the first place.

At some point, he moved on to tracing runes against her hand, but she’d been too wrapped up in running through other possibilities of what could go wrong tomorrow to notice. When she _did_ notice the change, it had pulled her out of visualizing the _something else_ that Viren had apparently turned the human troops under his command into, and her mind latched on, instead—thankfully—to Callum as he silently and repeatedly drew a _fulminus_ rune on her palm. 

She found herself suddenly very relieved that he had his magic, knowing that she couldn’t count on being at his side tomorrow, and caught his thumb with her fingers, trapping it still against her palm for a moment.

Rayla loosened her grip, and, after a while, Callum’s thumb switched to drawing random shapes and patterns in her hand. When his touch faded into the background again, her ruminating progressed to silent seething about Viren, her head following down a dark, winding path that started with her parents and ended with the impending battle currently breathing down their necks. 

Feeling Callum trace the third heart-shape in a row against her hand caught her attention again, though. This time, he wrote their initials at the center of it. 

Her lip twitched into a weak, melancholy smile. There were a few bits of light in all that darkness at least, and maybe…

Maybe some peace would come of all this, too...if they actually managed to pull this off. 

She tried closing her eyes. 

Maybe Callum had run out of ideas or maybe he was just getting drowsier, but the next pattern he started to trace was less creative, his thumb simply passing repeatedly across the calluses at the base of her fingers. His touch was a little rougher along that path, almost as if he was trying to make sure she could feel his fingers against the coarse skin there. She couldn’t help but think that there was a note of anxiety to match her own in this heavier touch.

Callum’s thumb changed its rhythm again, though, after a few minutes, and his touch was feather-light now along the new path he’d chosen.

If she’d actually been anywhere near sleep she might’ve pestered him about how this new pattern—his thumb dragging from the base of her middle finger, down across her palm to her wrist, and then back up—tickled. But, if the past hour...hours?...had been any indication, she was definitely _not_ going to be sleeping any time soon anyway and the little ripple of delight that tingled from her hand all the way up her arm from his touch was _such_ a nice contrast to all that worry.

Plus, as much as she knew that he _should_ be sleeping too, it was awfully nice to know that he was _here with her._ That she wasn’t laying there—staring at the ceiling, anxious heartbeat pumping restlessly in her ears—alone. 

That was a little selfish, she realized, but it wasn’t like she was _keeping_ him awake. She closed her fingers around his thumb to let him know she was still here with him, too.

He sighed and squeezed back.

“What are you thinking about?” Even though he’d whispered the words, they still seemed so loud, his voice bouncing off the ceiling and then back down to her. 

It would’ve been a lot easier to whisper _next_ to each other, but Callum had shifted their bedrolls so that they laid end-to-end instead of side-by-side just before everyone had laid down earlier. She’d raised a questioning eyebrow but he’d just nodded in his aunt’s direction, a little touch of color glowing on his cheeks. 

That was fair. They’d learned last night that they _did_ have a tendency to...drift...in their sleep, now that they were a _thing_.

She let go of his hand to flip to her belly, hoping to muffle the rest of their conversation a little, and he did the same, their chins resting on their crossed arms now as they looked across to each other.

“You first,” she said as she settled, not quite sure where to even start with the spiraling that was keeping her up. Callum nodded, that familiar sympathetic softness layering overtop of the worry and exhaustion in his eyes. She wondered if _she_ looked that tired too.

“Trying to distract myself,” he said, with a shrug.

“And how’s _that_ going for you?” She tried to push down the way she—nonsensically—wanted to smile about commiserating with him, but a single corner of her mouth pulled upward into a tiny smirk anyway. He snorted in response and she let the grin break-out more fully. 

Yeah, this was much better than suffering in silence. She’d much rather be miserable with Callum than with anyone else—herself included.

“Poorly,” he answered, laughing.

“Yeah,” she sighed in agreement, even though she was pretty sure that enjoying Callum holding her hand didn’t count as distracting _herself_ ...that was just _Callum_ distracting _her_ . Maybe he’d do it some more if she asked? “Tell me about _your_ distractions. Mine are all depressing.”

“Mine aren’t great either,” he chuckled. He thought for a moment, then pushed up on his elbows and reached for her hand again. She copied him, weaving their fingers together. “The best one is probably...thinking about being here, just like this, again tomorrow night.” His grip tightened to emphasize—as if she didn’t know—what he meant by _just like this_ and then he watched his thumb brush across her knuckles. Most of the gloom had disappeared when he looked back up at her. “Then, you know, getting to live happily ever after.” 

He shrugged again, the words falling off his tongue like they’d been rehearsed, and she squinted. That clearly meant more than just being happy forever.

“Happily ever after?” Rayla tilted her head to the side, wondering why the odd phrase came so naturally to him.

“Yeah. Like in fairy tales?” he asked, matching her inquisitive posture as he rattled off what she could only assume were _more_ obscure human sayings. “‘Once upon a time,’ and all that?” His attempt at an explanation was lost on her. She shook her head.

“I...don’t think we have those in Xadia,” she explained, “or at least Moonshadow elves don’t.”

“Huh.” He withdrew his fingers from hers to lay his hand against his chin instead, tapping there as he thought. “I guess that kind of makes sense.” Callum’s eyes wandered away from hers, looking around the way they tended to when he was trying to reason his way around some newfound understanding. “You probably don’t really need _stories_ about magic if it’s just _everywhere_ , all the time.”

Ah. That explains it. Of _course_ her dorky, sweet mage would be enamored with stories about _magic_ ...even if they were _human_ stories and, therefore, probably _woefully_ inaccurate. Her smile slanted, crooked and uneven, in her attempt to mask her genuine amusement with curiosity.

“They’re stories about magic?” she asked, hoping he had more to gush about on the subject. _That_ was—honestly—the best distraction she could hope for. He brightened and she grinned back some more.

“Mmhmm, among other things” he started, before starting to count off some themes on his fingers, “good and evil, adventure, love…” 

He must not have expected her steady gaze because when he looked up, his list having fizzled out, his expression quickly shifted from _dreamy_ to _panicked_. The tiny little smile and the haze over his green eyes stayed, but his eyebrows popped up and his cheeks went pink...he didn’t look away, though. It was almost like he was...asking a question?

...to which, the answer was, emphatically, _yes_.

She scooted closer and took the hand he’d been counting on, keeping her eyes fixed on his as she brought his fingers to her lips. “Go on,” she said with a nod. 

Callum smiled again—fully and brightly this time—before fixing her with a half-lidded stare and stroking the back of her hand, understanding now—apparently—that they were flirting. He continued. 

“Cast of characters usually includes fair maidens”—the wink was a _little_ much, maybe—“talking animals, dragons, princes…” His eyebrows wiggled dramatically. “Elves…” Callum pulled her fingers to his lips, his gaze now all affection and humor, and she felt warmth pool in her cheeks.

“Sounds like maybe you’re _living_ one of these stories now, huh, mage?” she teased, and he traded the affected flirtation for an easier smile.

“Maybe,” he shrugged again, squeezing the hand still in his. “We’ll see how tomorrow goes for that whole happily-ever-after bit.”

In _her_ opinion, that had killed the mood. The alternative to _happily ever after_ was…bad. Bad for him, bad for her, bad for them. Bad.

Callum was still looking at her with such _hope_ , though.

She shook off the urge to slip back into the gloom.

“So, these are like...nice bedtime stories?” she continued instead. He let out a single chuckle and shook his head slightly. 

“Not always. Some of them can get a little gruesome, actually. But the most important thing is that, at the end of the story, everything turns out okay. And then…”

“And then...what?” She smiled and cocked her head to the side again, pretty sure she knew the answer. _And then they live happily ever after…_

 _Like_ they _would_ , she silently resolved, _when everything turned out okay tomorrow._

“They go _home_ , and—” 

She deflated. _Home._

Panic instantly rushed back across Callum’s face, but there was no blush or slight smile that came with _this_ panic. He hastily revised his definition of _happily ever after_.

“—and they...live their lives. Happily ever after.”

He grappled for her hand again, pressing it between both of his and kissing her fingertips, silently begging for her forgiveness as he looked up at her, clearly cursing himself for having lodged his foot _so_ firmly in his mouth.

He’d...he’d been telling her _his_ happily-ever-after. She...couldn’t really _blame_ him for that.

That wasn’t a happily-ever-after that _she_ could have, though...not without a _home_ to go to.

He knew that. And he was sorry. Clearly. For that, for her...for what he’d just said, too.

“It’s okay,” she breathed. Callum shut his eyes in what she could only imagine was relief and exhaled against her hand, pressing his lips against her over and over still, and she swallowed the lump that had risen in her throat. There was enough already for them to be upset over. 

She coughed to clear the tremor from her voice. “So...let me get this straight,” she continued, forcing a smile that Callum was clearly surprised to see when he opened his eyes again. “You don’t believe in _irony_ —that’s just something that happens in stories—but _happily ever after_ , you’re fine with?””

“I might be a little biased,” he admitted, his smile much more reserved now. “Irony usually makes _bad_ things happen, but happily ever after...that’s supposed to be all _good_ things.” He blinked down at their joined hands, watching his thumb continue to run along hers, apologizing still with his touch. “I don’t know...it’s probably dumb to think that everything will just suddenly be perfect, but it’s nice to think that maybe it _could_ be, you know?”

“That’s not dumb,” she reassured him, leaning forward to catch his eye and squeezing his hand back. “Far-fetched, maybe”— _more like_ impossible, _especially for_ her, she thought—“but not dumb.” He offered her a weak smile that she imagined was probably just as dim as her own.

“What kind of good things?” she asked, hoping maybe he’d brighten with getting to tell her about everything he wanted. He stayed solemn, though.

“That’s...that’s kind of up to you,” he said, his eyes cutting from the hand he still held in his to meet her gaze. Rayla wanted to wriggle away from the intensity when Callum's eyes locked onto hers, so very clearly asking her what it was that _she_ wanted. She blinked away, and sputtered a little as she responded.

“Why is it up to _me?”_ she questioned, continuing to avert her gaze out of hesitation in letting him base the _good things_ he wanted off of _her_. His fingers under her chin startled her with their gentle but firm pull as he turned her eyes back to his. 

“I want those good things _with you_ , Rayla,” he insisted, his hand drifting away from her chin and across her cheek. He cradled her face in his palm and Rayla’s mouth fell open, finding herself mesmerized by that adoring and unwavering stare she’d tried to avoid. 

She sucked in a quick breath, remembering their commitment from earlier. _Together_. That’s how they decided these things now.

“It’s up to _us_ , then,” she clarified. “ _Our_ happily ever after.” 

He beamed back at her, his thumb softly brushing over her cheek.

“Yeah,” he nodded, grinning now, his fingers pushing back, across her jaw and into her hair as he inched closer. “Up to _us_.”

He pressed his lips to hers and her stomach flipped at all of the _feeling_ that was wrapped up in it. All of his worry, and apologizing, and hope...all wrapped up in one warm, soft, little kiss.

“Do we have to decide now, though, Callum?” she whispered, even quieter than before, when his lips left hers. His fingertips continued to gently caress just behind her ear, pressing lightly along her scalp. “Because I’m not sure what I want yet,”—well...there was _one_ thing she was sure of—“besides the _obvious_ , of course.”

“What’s the obvious?” His hand dropped away and he inched back to search her face when he asked the question, as sincere as ever.

“You, dummy,” she chuckled, bouncing closer again to place another quick kiss on his lips. Not _nearly_ as heartfelt as his had been. Heartfelt was _his_ specialty after all. She couldn’t bring herself to pull all the way back though, and instead she stayed close, breathing his air for a moment while she repeated her uncertainty. His forehead knocked against hers. “I’m...I’m not sure besides that, though.” She found his hand again. “Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay,” he said, locking their fingers together once more. “Just...tell me when you know. Then we can talk about it. Alright?” His lips met the corner of her mouth.

“Alright,” she nodded, her nose brushing alongside his. He nuzzled back before they both retreated to their pillows, hands still joined in the space between them. 

He watched her thoughtfully for a moment before asking: “Do you want to tell me what’s keeping _you_ up?” 

She winced and shook her head.

“Not really,” she answered. The soft sympathy was back again, but now it was filtered through what she could only describe as pleading. “Come on, Callum...we did _so many_ feelings today.” He didn’t seem to _quite_ accept that response, so she shrugged and continued. “Plus...you know most of it already. _All_ of it, really.”

He sighed. “Fine, but…” Callum glanced around the room with a conspiratorial smile, verifying that their whispering hadn’t woken anyone up. “I’m coming over there.”

Dragging the edge of his bedroll by its corner, he scooted around to lay next to her. Rayla moved closer than she had the night before, pulling his arm over her waist for the hug that she hoped might actually let her sleep. He kissed her forehead when they whispered another round of good-nights.

Her downward spiral tried to begin again, but Callum’s breath, warm against her cheek, steadied her. She let her attention drift in the opposite direction instead, trailing her touch against his cheek and imagining all the ways she might slot perfectly into whatever it was that _their_ happily ever after might be.


	2. after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay for 4.2k of post-flight comforty, fluffy, sweet, flirty dorks!!
> 
> The dialogue for this has been written since pretty much the day the first part was posted, but it took me a while to figure out the sequence/connections between all the little pieces I had. (Plus, ya know, real life.) I'm pretty satisfied with how this turned out and I hope you'll enjoy our sweet dorks too! :)
> 
> As always, I really appreciate any kudos/commented you might want to leave for me! <3

This wasn’t _exactly_ the “just like this” that Callum had imagined when she’d asked him to distract her last night...but it was pretty close.

They were certainly laid out the same way they had been: head to head, legs sprawled out in opposite directions, their joined hands resting on the ground in the space between them as their fingers absentmindedly fidgeted with each other’s. 

He pulled those fidgety fingers briefly to his lips, and Rayla breathed a tiny, peaceful hum as he kissed. Relief flooded him anew that her hand was there, safely wrapped up in his and available for kissing, and with that relief came another wave of warmth reminding him that, not only was she _here_ , and _safe_ , but that _she loved him too._ He answered her relaxed little hum with a sigh.

That relaxation—that _relief—_ was _definitely_ better than anything he could have imagined.

There were a few other differences too.

For one, unlike the chill of the floor beneath them last night, the pale stone platform of the Pinnacle had still been warm from the heat of the day against Callum’s back when he’d first laid down...or rather, when Rayla had first pulled him back to the ground after he’d tried to stand and nearly passed out in the process. 

They’d been quietly watching night fall above their heads, Zym curled up at their side, since.

Their view was pretty different now too: the distant orangey-yellow glow of the sunset had almost completely faded away in favor of cool, blue moonlight lighting up the sky above them. _Much_ less intimidating than the dark, grey, echo-y ceiling of the Storm’s Spire’s atrium that they’d been staring at last night.

The feeling of her hand in his wasn’t quite the same either. There wasn’t the same tension in that gentle pressure now. All of the desperation had faded, leaving her touch warm and soft and tender as her fingers rested, locked between his.

He unknotted his fingers from hers, trying to ignore the dull ache that shot up along his arm from even just the tiny motion of curling his hand against her palm, and started tracing runes against her hand—the same one that he’d done this with last night. It was the same warm little hand, too, that’d reached for his at sunrise this morning and that had buried itself into his hair as she pulled herself up to kiss him mid-air against the sunset-colored sky.

It was also the same hand, he realized, that she’d used to catch him by the elbow when he’d swayed trying to stand up again earlier, her grip around him firm and comforting, if a little painful against his sore arms.

As a matter of fact—Callum thought, drawing the manus rune in her hand— _she’d_ managed to catch _him_ a few times already just in the time since he’d caught her...and it’d been, what? An hour? If that?

Not that that was really all that shocking, though. She was _always_ there, especially for him.

His hero.

Well, not just _his_ hero.

 _Everyone’s_ hero. 

Just _his Rayla_ , though, he thought with a flutter in his chest, pausing to press his thumb at the center of that sweet, steadying hand, marvelling that she _could_ be so steady so soon after all of that. Her steadiness, though...it had definitely come and gone over the past hour.

She’d looked as blissfully elated as he felt, for example, when their breathless, mid-air kiss was through. Her eyes locked onto his when their lips parted, and the brightness of her initial surprise had drifted to warm, thoughtful, _steady_ appreciation instead. He could only compare it to the way she’d looked at him, her fingers settled gently on top of his, as they’d watched last night’s sunset together—sure and open and _loving._

There was a little swell of giddy pride in his chest that he could definitely call it that now: _love._

He felt a little responsible for how her mid-flight steadiness had faded away, though, because he’d been the one to breakaway from the lovesick staring first, his eyes wandering away from hers to watch the wind around them swirl her hair into a disheveled mess that he’d hoped she’d let him fix for her later. Her eyes had wandered, too, when his had, and it only took her a few glances at the clouds next to them for her to lose the peace and steadiness.

“Uh...Callum?” she asked, her eyes—bright and wide again in concern rather than surprise—cutting down to the clouds that shielded the ground far below from view. “Do you think we could stare into each other’s eyes on solid ground?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he agreed, feeling Rayla’s arms wrapping more tightly around him. She heaved herself up closer, her wind-blown hair tickling his neck, and he couldn’t tell if her arms were shaking with effort or anxiety. “Up is closer, okay? Hold on.”

With a strange instinct taking over and telling his arms— _wings_ —the speed and angle at which to beat against the gusts of winds, they were hovering overtop of the Pinnacle in no time. Of course, though, there was no strange instinct telling him how to _land._

Rayla peered down at the platform beneath them as he started to apologize: “Sorry, give me a second. I—” 

A near-shout caught in his throat when Rayla dropped along with his heart...before he realized she’d done that _on purpose,_ landing with a deft roll along the khaki-colored stone slab below. She scooped a relieved-looking Zym up into her arms as she stood.

“A little warning would’ve been nice, Rayla!” he pleaded with another burst of panic pulsing through his veins at the thought of diving for her again. 

“Sorry,” she called up with a cringe between Zym’s little electric baby-storm-dragon kisses.

He searched for a rhythm that would allow him to slowly drop down beside her. If he looked anywhere near as ridiculous as he felt—flapping his wings in weird sporadic bursts, plummeting inches and then catching himself over and over—she didn’t let on. Instead Rayla watched patiently, echoing his position above from the ground. She put Zym down to spot him.

“Just drop, Callum.” She split her stance, looking ready to lunge for him. “I’ll catch you.”

In hindsight, _maybe_ closing his eyes as he tucked the wings down along his sides hadn’t been the best idea. Rayla was true to her word, of course, though, stopping his stumbling after just a few footfalls with her arms wrapped around his middle.

“Easy there, bird boy,” she said, those supportive, steady hands at his shoulders now. He chuckled at the newest addition to his long list of unfortunate nicknames while Rayla helped him straighten up. Her smirk broadened into a contagious grin once he was upright again, her fingers playfully ruffling the feathers at what would’ve been his forearm. Out of the whipping wind and adrenaline fading fast, the wings were positively sapping his energy, Callum realized as he tried to pull them tight around her.

She blinked softly at him, her grin fading into a more serious smile. Three fingers trailed along his cheek. “This is all real, right?” she asked in a small voice, composure fading fast. “I didn’t die and wake up in one of your fairy tales?” Her smile twitched a little brighter again.

“You didn’t die,” he repeated to her, realizing too late that his intensity was ill-advised. Too dark. _Especially_ too dark for a Rayla that needed reassurance. He cleared his throat. “I mean, yes. This is real.” he amended. He bent his wing closer still, wishing it were a hand again so he could ground her with a touch like she was doing for him. “This is real. I’m here. You’re here. Really.” 

She nodded along as he spoke, her gaze drifting from his stare down to the wing that had twitched towards her. The hand that’d been on his face followed her eyes, her fingers feeling all along the brown feathers—verifying they were real too, he figured. The smile she’d worn had faded, though, and he could see the tiny beads of tears growing along her eyelashes too.

“Softer than they look,” she remarked, failing miserably at an attempt to brighten again. A tear broke loose down her cheek and his wings twitched closer again, wanting to wipe it away, or touch her, or hold her... _anything,_ really, to console her. Her hand ran across the length of his left wing.

“Rayla? Would...would you come here please? I can’t really hug you with these, but I want to.” Lifting the wings, which had still had her undivided attention, seemed to pull her head back to him. Callum watched his words register, and all her effort to steady him was nearly undone as she flung her arms around his neck.

Even without hands on her back to feel the trembling, it was clear by the urgency of her embrace and the tears wetting the side of his neck that she’d let go of any semblance of steadiness, letting herself fall apart against him. The little pocket of—reportedly—soft feathers he had enclosed her in became even more dissatisfying for him when she choked out a ragged sob.

Some combination of the weakening wind, the effort of bending the wings around her, and his will to properly embrace her shaking body finally allowed the wings to fade away, though. As the feathers disappeared, he ignored the tingling pinpricks that ran along his arms, looping one around her waist. His newly-rediscovered fingers gently swept into her hair to cradle her close, and Callum sighed out in short-lived relief before realizing just how violently Rayla was quivering, her limbs trembling as she pulled in equally shaky gulps of air.

“Callum,” she gasped against his chest, “you—you shouldn’t have done that.” Her words, lost somewhere between scolding and sobbing, were muffled against his scarf. 

“Hey, Rayla, just—just try to breathe, okay?” he instructed gently, his palm pressed firmly against her back in the empty space where her blades belonged. “In and out.” 

He felt her nod and inhale, but she sputtered unevenly at the kiss on her cheek that had been intended to comfort her.

“Here,” he whispered against her temple. “Do it with me, okay?” He blew out through his mouth so she could feel it at her cheek and she nodded again, her body shrinking in his arms as she copied him. Their chests rose and fell in time together, and he realized that he’d needed the deep breaths too to silence the last echoes of the adrenaline coursing through his body.

The calm meant, though, that he was suddenly very aware of his own shaking, especially now that Rayla had stilled some. His hand at the back of her head, in particular, trembled, along with his knees. 

“You good?” she sniffed, growing steady again for him, her arms uncoiling from around his neck to loop under his instead.

“Just...tired,” he sighed. Like her question had been permission, he sank down and she caught him, lowering them both gently to their knees. Needle-like pin-pricks shot up his arm again when his hand made contact with the ground.

“Well, I guess _so_ , mage,” Rayla scoffed, smiling momentarily before the gravity of her next words washed back over her. “You jumped off a _mountain,_ Callum,” she said, barely managing to temper the disbelief.

“So did _you_ ,” he responded, reaching to brush his fingertips across her cheek like she’d done to him and making sure to match her disbelief...even though _really_ it had been a very _Rayla_ thing to do.

That disbelief of hers mixed in with reproach, making her voice unsteady and small again. “You didn’t _have_ to.” He tilted her chin just slightly so she’d stop staring at their knees.

“Yes, I did, Rayla,” he insisted, choosing to argue over what _he’d_ done rather than what she had, and watched tears begin to swim in her eyes again. “If there was even a chance...I had to, Rayla.” 

Her mouth fell open as if his words had surprised her. When she pressed her lips back together, her eyes shut too and tears flooded down her cheeks.

“N-no...no, you didn’t,” she sniffed, shaking her head and looking away again. “I had to save Zym.” The baby dragon yelped at their side, nuzzling against Rayla’s arm again. She wiped away a stream of tears and smiled at Zym, scratching in his mane momentarily before Callum had her attention again. “You—”

Callum bent closer, his grip at her shoulders cutting off her words.

“I had to save _you._ ” 

She buried her face in her hands, and her breathing started to grow loud and ragged again. Callum’s thumbs stroked tiny circles against the slightly chilled skin above her elbows.

“Hey, look at me? I _love_ you.” He couldn’t help but grin repeating the words that'd been brewing inside for weeks. Rayla uncovered her face. A tearful smile was better than no smile at all, so he said it again. 

“I love you,” he said, reverently pulling her tear-stained hands to his lips, “and if you’re going to jump off a mountain trying to save everyone else, I’m going to jump after you.” 

His resolve on the matter stopped the tears, but she was frowning again instead, glancing back to the ground. He squeezed her hands, plotting to get the smile back, starting with a lopsided grin. 

“Plus, who would I get to have my fairy-tale ending with if I hadn’t, huh?” he said with a dramatic wink. Regular-Rayla was a _much_ tougher crowd than upset-Rayla, Callum noted when her eyes immediately lit up again. She giggled and moved to tuck herself under his arm. “Wow, that actually _worked?_ ” he asked, earning another chuckle.

“Barely,” she conceded, her head on his shoulder. Callum pressed his lips to her forehead. “I love you, too, by the way,” she whispered, threading her fingers into the spaces between his. 

That was...the _most_ believable of all the unbelievable things from today. 

Callum tugged her as close as physically possible against his side, marveling at how _simple_ their _thing_ —he supposed he could just call it _their_ _love_ now—was. He loved her, she loved him, and that was that. Uncomplicated and pure. Even when he couldn’t be sure of himself, he could be sure of _her_. 

Which why was, he figured, it hadn’t been a decision at all, really, to go after her. Sure, love was _this_ —her head on his shoulder and his arms around her, both of them swinging seamlessly between seeking the other’s support and giving that sought-after reassurance. But it was also what he’d done—and what she’d done. 

The tingling in his arms had stopped, but the ache that’d started to swell in his muscles when he squeezed her hand was reminder enough of the most _un_ believable of all the unbelievable things from today.

“I...didn’t know if I was going to be able to do it,” he said, his voice hushed with doubt about burdening her when she’d just settled down again.

“Thanks a lot,” she started sassily, elbowing him. “I was trying not to think about _that_.” 

Rayla looked up, her head still resting against him. She was grinning like it was a joke, but...he knew it wasn’t. She stayed steady for him though, her hand squeezing his and her lips still pulled into a reassuring smile. “You did, though. You saved me.”

Rayla’s lips parted as she lifted her head, pride and appreciation and _love_ glinting in her eyes before she kissed him, her mouth sweet and sure against his.

He was glad she also hadn’t been satisfied with just one kiss, her lips forming another quick, whispered “I love you” before molding against his again. 

And again.

And...she’d already been _pretty good_ at this to start with but—another kiss pulled at his top lip—was it the background hum of knowing _she loved him_ making his mind go blank or had she actually somehow gotten _better_ at this?

She sighed heavily into the last kiss and offered more lovesick staring once her lips had retreated from his. “People are probably looking for us,” she mused just as he’d been about to lean in for another—maybe just _one_ more?—kiss. 

She stood, dragging him up with her and... _oh._ The world went fuzzy.

The fatigue had started to set in as soon as the wings had faded away, but it hadn’t been until that momentary blurring of his vision that he’d realized just how much flying had taken out of him.

Or maybe it was the making out with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in his entire life who somehow both wanted to kiss him too and actually loved him back? 

Her firm grip around his elbow, catching him _again,_ made a little burst of achy pain jolt through his arm. 

No, it was definitely the flying.

“ _Oh_ , no you don’t. You’re _not_ passing out on me again,” she scolded gently, pushing him firmly back to the ground. She pointed at the stone beneath them and modeled what she wanted him to do. “Lay down. Rest.” 

Which is how they’d ended up here, in comfortable silence and constant contact. 

Callum had run out of runes now to trace against her palm. He drew some words he hadn’t been able to last night.

She broke the quiet with a brief humming lilt of laughter. “Love you too, dork,” she said, sucking in a loud breath. Her hand withdrew from his as she turned to lay on her stomach. “How’re you feeling?” she asked once he copied her, flopping even more gracelessly than usual to his belly.

“Arms hurt,” he said, wincing as he leaned up on his elbows. “Otherwise...fine, I think. Tired, I guess. But fine.” He smiled, seeing that the relaxation in her touch had made its way into her eyes too. “You?”

“Aside from considering murdering you for just _assuming_ you’d be able to sprout wings and fly?” Callum rolled his eyes at her teasing, grinning back about the fact that they were solidly in the can-joke-about-their-near-death-experience phase. “I’m great,” she shrugged. 

“So...what next?” He rested his head in his hands.

Rayla winked, her voice falling into a lower, playful tone. “Happily ever after, I _thought._ ” 

“I meant, should we go find everyone else? But, uh, now that you mention it...” Callum started, reaching for her hand. “Do you know what that looks like yet? For you?”

“Long term? No.” 

He winced at the way her face fell, but...Rayla wouldn’t have brought it up if she hadn’t wanted to. She immediately smiled again, despite the momentary darkness, bright lavender eyes meeting his. Pushing it down was...okay. For now, Callum decided. 

“Short term? I think I have an idea, but…” She trailed off.

“But what?” he asked, stroking his thumb alongside hers encouragingly.

Shrugging, not quite masking her uncertainty with curiosity, she said: “But I want to hear yours first.” 

“Short term?” Rayla nodded in response. “Well...in _my_ happily ever after, we all go h—” He caught the word _home_. She blinked at his pause and he knew, of course, that she knew what he’d been about to say. He corrected himself anyway. “I mean...we all go back to Katolis, and we—you and me—we just get to be _normal_ for a while. That’s the short term goal, at least.”

Her free hand swept a piece of his hair away from his eye. “And what does _normal_ look like, _Prince_ Callum?” she teased, beaming at him.

“Well…Opeli’ll probably make me start lessons again, and I doubt Soren will let me off the hook either,” he explained, unreasonably excited by the thought that Rayla might now do those things _with_ him. _Some_ of those things, at least. “I’ll probably be busier than I used to be because Ez’ll need some help, I’m sure.” 

She nodded in agreement with that last one before raising a single eyebrow at him. “Shouldn’t happily ever after be a little more fun than that?” 

“It _will_ be fun…’cause now you’ll be there.” A deceivingly shy-looking blush filled in across Rayla’s cheeks.

He beamed at her and that pretty blush, imagining Rayla in the halls, her little hand held securely in his. Rayla in the courtyard, bouncing around cheerily with him and Ez and Soren in the sunshine. Rayla in the library, whispering to him and laughing in dark corners. Rayla in town, moonbeams playing in her hair, not a care in the world, as long she’s with him. Rayla in his room, innocently teasing him from his bed, a pillow in her lap, while he draws. Rayla...everywhere. 

That was all _new_ though, he realized. Not _normal_. Not yet, at least. 

“That’s not the part of normal that I’m _really_ excited for, though.” He knew he looked all doofy and dreamy, but she didn’t make fun of it...this time. 

“What _are_ you excited for, then?” A stray piece of hair—still messy from the wind—fell across her face as she asked.

“Well...let’s see.” Callum tapped his chin as if he hadn’t just fantasized about the answer. “We need to get _you_ a jelly tart, first of all.” 

“I think Ez _probably_ has a handle on that,” she said, tucking the bright white lock of hair back in place, with a smile.

“True,” he agreed, reaching to hold both of her hands in both of his now. “I want to show you all the best parts of the castle—you know, at a _walking_ pace this time—and maybe we can go into town too. We’re _definitely_ overdue for a date, don’t you think? I think _most_ couples probably go on at least _one_ before they decide that they love each other.”

“Yeah, _probably_ should’ve bought me dinner before jumping off a mountain for me.” A smirk played on her lips.

“Probably,” he chuckled. “Anyway, I don’t know exactly, Rayla, but I just...want to share everything with you, you know? And I don’t know if—

She leaned across the inches between them, cutting him off with her lips on his. She was content this time, it seemed, with just one kiss, pulling away, looking a little doofy and dreamy herself.

“What was _that_ for?” He laughed, releasing a hand to run a finger along her cheek.

“Love you,” she grinned, her gaze failing her in her attempt at nonchalance. Her eyes, all half-lidded and hazy-lilac and shining with affection, gave her away. “That’s all.”

“Oh? Is that _all?_ ” He angled in closer again. She looked to the side coyly, unwilling, it seemed, to deny his lips moving towards hers. She hung back and let him do the honors, though, and he mumbled a muted “I love you too” against her mouth, hoping she’d kiss him again afterward. She didn’t pull away when she spoke, her breath tickling his lips.

“Yes, by the way,” she said, eyes still closed but blinking open at his questioning hum. “I’ll go home with you. That’s...that’s why I wanted you to say first. Didn’t want to just _invite myself_ to Katolis.”

“That’s actually what _you_ want?” Callum asked, tucking away the happy detail that she’d called it _home_ too. He had to wonder how _true_ that felt for her but...it was nice that she maybe _wanted_ it to be true at least. Her hands still clasped in his, she threaded her fingers between his, confirming her personal happily ever after with a squeeze. 

She nodded. “Short term.” He repeated the words back to her, his heart skipping a beat knowing that she was on board—enthusiastically, even—with his new-and-improved _normal_ version of happily-ever-after. There was no need to say the rest: they’d figure out the next part together, too.

“Pretty fitting fairy-tale ending if you ask me,” he started, unable to shake the flirtatious I-love-you-and-I-wanna-kiss-you-about-it feeling. “Magic spell lets the prince save the fair maiden,”—she rolled her eyes again—”evil is defeated, and then Prince Charming gets to take his princess home…”

Her eyes widened momentarily and her cheeks went pink. What he’d just said hit him right about when her smile turned smug. “Oh, _yeah_?”

“I mean, if, uh, if you want?” he squeaked, wincing. She _definitely_ wasn’t offended, though: he was sure from how her fingers—maybe even _more_ fondly—kept caressing his own. His voice cracked nervously despite his certainty that, at worst, he’d only just earned a lifetime of teasing. “Maybe someday?” 

“Maybe someday,” she smiled, looking at their joined hands, still blushing. She looked back up to begin that lifetime of snark _now_ , it seemed. “Was really questioning the _charming_ part though.”

“Oh, _please_ ,” he dared to counter, “You find me _extremely_ charming.” That was debatable, apparently, judging by the lighthearted glare. “Well, either that or...you love me anyway?” 

The affected frown fell away, and she was grinning broadly at him again.

“That I do,” she said with another tiny, short kiss...the playful kind this time. “Definitely _in spite of_ the so-called _charm_ , though. Not very charming to _accidentally_ ask me to marry you,” she quipped. He felt color burn in his cheeks even hotter.

“What? No! I mean, yes, but—“ How could she be so _sweet_ -looking still when she was rolling her eyes at him? “I didn’t mean—” She dramatically and deliberately returned his hands to him before pushing up to stand. “Rayla!”

“Relax, Prince Charming.” She shook her head, pink-cheeked, and grinning, and thoroughly _amused,_ and presented a steady hand for him to take. “Few more things to do before happily ever after.”

**Author's Note:**

> [Come be friends on tumblr!](https://blutopaz15.tumblr.com/)


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